


Halo

by cleopatraslibrary



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (you wouldn't be able to tell with my other works that i wasn't serious), -oh my god they were roommates-, Also a rewrite from something I wrote a few months ago, Draco has curly hair, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, This is just a quick fluff, but more to cure humiliation, not because he wants to die, obviously, that's all, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 15:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17164913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleopatraslibrary/pseuds/cleopatraslibrary
Summary: A quick little rewrite of Draco Malfoy having curly hair.





	Halo

The first time Harry saw Malfoy in disarray, or act messy (in any way), had been in their Eighth year dormitory. They’d been chosen as roommates by the Headmistress as a sign of “Unity of the Houses,” but for a few nights, Harry resented the Headmistress for her decision.

He resented the decision until he saw Malfoy walk into the dorm with a stumble, his usually pristine, flattened hair finger-trodden with corkscrews hanging delicately in his face and his robes unbuttoned and hanging a little open. He gave Harry a drunken smile with furiously blushing cheeks as he collapsed in bed, and Harry thought, _Maybe this won’t be so bad._

And it wasn’t too bad, though Harry had other realizations as well.

Malfoy was a messy person; it wasn’t just his hair. His notes were immaculate and rivaled Hermione’s, and besides that one drunken encounter, he was always very well put together. However, his side of the room was always dirty, in some way. Clothes would be strewn on the furniture, or maybe just on the floor next to the bed, or even better, be on one of the shelves of the high bookcases Malfoy brought with him from the Manor. And speaking of books! Malfoy usually has two or three going at a time, but Harry had no idea when he read them because it seemed like he was always sleeping.

And even though they got along well, Harry’s favourite time to look at Malfoy was at night, when he was asleep. Sometimes, he’d leave his bed curtain open -- just an inch or so -- and Harry would peak in and look at Malfoy’s natural, curly hair that sat like a halo. It wasn’t Harry's fault that he looked in, of course not. It was natural for the eye to wander. Obviously.

One night, when Harry was gazing at Malfoy through the little patch in his bed curtains, he had another realization: _I like Malfoy. Oh, boy_.

-

Harry wasn’t going to mention it. At all. Why would he? He’d be rejected faster than Hermione could learn a spell. It didn’t matter, anyway. Feelings fade. Definitely.

So Harry didn’t say anything about his little, tiny, mediocre-sized, maybe engorged crush on Malfoy. What he did instead was ask stupid questions.

“Why’s your hair curly?”

It had been one of those days that Malfoy hadn’t immediately fallen into bed and taken a nap after classes. Harry saw it as an opportunity to have a chat. He regretted every decision in his entire life.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. He stroked his now-straight hair and said, “It doesn’t look curly to me, Potty.”

Rather than just nod and go back to his Transfiguration essay like a normal human being who was just humiliated, Harry decided that his ultimate goal in life was to be a world-renowned masochist. “I’ve seen it at night, though. Why straighten it?”

Tension seized Malfoy by the jaw and spread through his once relaxed position. “What’s it to you?” His grey eyes were stormy as they glared down Harry.

“Nothing! It just looks . . . good on you.” That’s it; Harry was officially going to kill himself. He’d find a lovely, sturdy staircase and jump from the top, hoping he’d break his neck in the process.

Despite his burning face, Harry didn’t look away. It was Malfoy’s eyes that flitted away from Harry’s as he said, “My father didn’t approve of curly hair.”

With that, Malfoy lept onto his bed and spelled the curtains shut. Harry wanted to prod further, but Malfoy made it clear that he wasn’t going to offer any more information. Regardless, as he turned away from Malfoy’s side of the room, he smiled sadly to himself. Malfoy willingly told Harry something about his life!

The sadness he felt with Malfoy faded as the realization set in that he felt something with Malfoy! He (very superficially, but let’s not discuss that) connected with Malfoy! The smile that broke across his face was suddenly interrupted by the sound of sweeping fabric. Harry looked back towards Malfoy, with a frown.

“I’m sorry for insulting your hair.” The words were quick but sincere, and Malfoy briskly hid behind the curtains again. Harry smiled again. Maybe the stairs weren’t necessary.

-

The common room was dark and cold, except for the bustling, grand fire still lit in the fireplace. In front of the fireplace sat a large, tweed sofa with two boys entangled together on it. Draco’s (he was Draco now!) body laid atop Harry’s, his back on his chest, and with his pink nose burrowed in the crook of Harry’s neck. Leisurely, Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s curly hair, his charms have long faded after midnight. A warm woolen blanket was pulled over both of them.

Draco stared into the fire, while Harry stared at him. It was always like that now; Draco would have a faraway look in his eye as if he were living in a daydream, while Harry would stare at him.

“See something you like?”

Harry startled and met Draco’s now-focused eyes. He grinned, softly. “Perhaps.”

Draco’s lips quirked, but his eyes didn’t reflect any happiness. He sighed quietly. “Why are you so obsessed with my hair?”

Harry didn’t hesitate. “It’s so very fluffy and silky and beautiful to look at. It’s like gold thread, except angelic.” He coiled a little around his finger and let it fall into its’ natural position before he continued his stroking.

Heat rose into Draco’s cheeks. “I didn’t take you for a poet, Potty.”

He grinned. “Neither did I.”

Still, Draco didn’t smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“When I was a child, I was rebellious.” Draco looked entranced by his past dancing in the flames of the fireplace. “Of course, when it was in private company -- my mother, father, or the elves -- it didn’t matter, as long as I was well behaved among the guests with parties.

“My father thought my curly hair was an active sign of rebellion just by being, so I always wore it straight with a potion. It was a trait on my mother’s side, you see, and it wasn’t considered as regal as father wanted me to be. My mother loved it, though. I think it used to remind her Aunt Andromeda.

“When I was eight, I decided that I wouldn’t wear my straightened hair. I had an elf give me a Reversal potion for the straightening and burst into the party with curls bouncing all over the place.

“Many were amused, but others saw it as a sign of weakness in my father, that he couldn’t control me. I didn’t know. I was only having a blast.”

Draco’s eyes were haunted by the scene playing in the fire, and Harry tightened his embrace around the other. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“He only held it for a second after the party, but it was the first time I had ever felt the Cruciatus curse. Mother was furious and didn’t talk to him for a week, but I had learned my lesson. I resented and came to hate my hair.

“Then I met you, and I knew curls were only for miscreants, anyway, so I had nothing to be resentful about,” he suddenly said, his dark eyes meeting Harry’s. A playful smirk spread across his face, and Harry laughed, before kissing his forehead lightly.

Harry played along. “Well, it seems you’ve accepted the role of miscreant well, then.” Draco gasped and bit Harry on the neck in punishment. Harry yelped before falling prey to laughter when Draco flipped onto his stomach to tickle Harry’s sides.

“Surrender!”

“Nev -- ha! -- er!”

Draco’s breath ghosted around Harry’s jaw while continuing to tickle along his ribcage.

“Surrender, Potter, you’ll never win!”

“Hm!” Draco placed a tiny kiss on his chin before moving his hands up underneath Harry’s underarms. “All -- right! All right! I surrender! Only if we can stay in this position, though,” Harry murmured breathlessly. Draco slowly relaxed onto Harry, rescinding his fingers, before agreeing silently, nodding into his neck and then wrapping his arms around Harry's head.

Harry chuckled. “Interesting position, Malfoy.”

“Shut up, Potty.”

They laid there together for a few moments, just breathing together before Harry broke the silence.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Draco didn’t need reminding as to what he was thanking him for.

“Thank you for helping me.”

It was silent again, before Harry replied, “I’m not going to say that any of what happened is okay, because, it- it's so far from okay, like so bad." Draco raised a brow. "Yes, yes, I know. Eloquent as always. But. Remember, Draco. You’ve always got me to talk to, okay, love?”

Blood rushed into Harry's cheeks before Draco replied, “Okay, love,” and Harry realized they were going to be okay.

His eyes grew heavy, but he still heard Draco’s, “Thank you for listening.”

-

“He’s got curly hair, Hermione! Can you believe it? After all of the insults he threw Harry’s way?!” Ron said indignantly.

“I don't think Harry minds too much anymore, Ronald . . .” she replied, giving the sleeping couple an approving look.

“Oh, Merlin, Harry’s sleeping with Malfoy!”

“Or, they’re trying to, so how about we go to breakfast instead? They can meet the repercussions of skipping class together.”

“Oh, all right.”

“No need to moan, Ronald!”

“I’m not --!”

“Shut up, Weasley, and listen to your girlfriend. There’s a reason why she’s considered a genius among our peers.” Draco’s voice came muffled from Harry’s neck, and Hermione stifled a smile.

Ron opened his mouth, before closing it abruptly and walking away. Hermione followed, calling behind her, “Nice bedhead!” before trailing her boyfriend out the door. She'd see them soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, this is a rewrite of "Bedhead" that I posted on Tumblr a few months ago. I reread it and didn't really like the first version, so here we are. I hope you enjoyed! Please leave feedback and tell me how I could improve! Everything I receive I really appreciate and I love to hear what people have to say about my work. Much love, darling fanfic readers! <3


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